Another Blonde
by CLK
Summary: A short escape for me to McMurphy's in set late in season seven or early season 8.


**Another Blonde**

**Background:** I had an overwhelming need to escape tax season and play with Harm and Mac. Even though this little routine has been there, done that, add nauseum.. I'm doing it too!

**Setting: ** This takes place anytime after jagathon but before everyone got pregnant.

Harm sat staring at his beer. It had been a long day, too long a day. He absolutely hated it when his opponents caught him off guard. He had been completely convinced the wide-eyed ensign was as innocent as she professed. He had just about fallen out of his chair when Singer presented not one, but two witnesses to corroborate the prosecution's case. So much for disclosure.

He took a long, slow, swallow of the soothing ale. It wasn't so much losing to Singer, though there was no way she wouldn't rub that in every opportunity she found, no, what bothered him most was that he had been so blind. He'd even had a rather nasty argument with Mac about it earlier in the day. Mac had tried to politely tell him he was letting Ensign Baxter's baby blues, flowing blonde hair, and cartoonish dimples cloud his judgment, but she might as well have been talking to a brick wall.

When had he become so gullible? It's not like he hadn't had to defend guilty clients before. This time he just didn't get it. He would have mounted a completely different strategy had he known the truth, or even suspected it. He'd have gone for a plea bargain from the start.

Sighing, he took another sip of beer. He couldn't help but let out a muffled snort when 'What a Fool Believes' by the Doobie Brothers began playing on the jukebox. Yup, no wise man has the power to reason away. Mac sure tried. He took another sip, draining the last drop from the bottom of the glass.

"I think one more should do the trick, Jack."

The bartender at McMurphy's knew the GQ commander well. It was rare to see him drinking alone for this long. Usually one of his cronies from the office would join him. Jack actually enjoyed the times when things didn't seem to go well for the friends. They were a fun group, even if they did sing off-key.

Flipping his coaster around on its rim over and over, Harm was so engrossed in the distracting activity, he failed to notice the leggy blonde slip onto the stool beside him.

"Had a bad day, sailor?"

It took him a few seconds to realize the woman was talking to him. Glancing up he was struck by the thought of how much she reminded him of Renee. Tall, long frosted blonde hair, dressed like a page from a fashion magazine that no real person would want to imitate, and enough lip gloss to ruin his summer whites. What surprised him even more was that this time around he found the appearance totally repulsive.

"Had better." Maybe if he played it overly cool, she'd just go away.

"Know what you mean. I've had a killer day myself. I just hate it when things don't go right. I mean, how do they expect me to do my job in a Focus?"

Harm looked up, he knew he shouldn't ask, but he found his mouth moving before his brain could properly engage. "Focus?"

"A Ford! They gave me a Focus for a loaner car. Do you have any idea how hard the seats are? I'm selling estate homes, not track housing!"

Harm let out sort of a hum and flashed that stiff lipped smile that was intended to convey, 'Why did I ask,' but this lady obviously read it as, 'Gee, you're witty.'

"The name's Tiffany." She extended her well-manicured hand.

All Harm could see reaching towards him were rather long red claws. How the heck was he supposed to get out of this? He couldn't go home, Jack had just now set a full beer down in front of him.

"Harm."

"Harm?"

"Short for Harmon."

"Well... Harm," The blonde scooted her chair closer to the handsome sailor, too close for Harm's liking. "What do you say we move this cheering-up session to a booth?"

Harm swallowed heavily in horror. His eyes flickered over to the front door. Surely someone he knew was thirsty tonight. "I...I'm sort of waiting for someone."

"Sort of?"

Harm thought he was going to fall off the chair when she dropped her hand on his knee, but he could have been knocked over with a feather when she took one finger and skimmed it up his thigh. Unwilling to see how far that finger planned to travel, he kicked his seat back a few inches.

"I'm a... just not sure what time she's coming, but it should be... uh... soon."

Could he have sounded any less sure of what he was saying? This was ridiculous. He'd been hit on before by leggy blondes, brunettes, and pretty much every hair color God and Clairol had ever invented. Why was this woman making him more nervous than a cat in a dog kennel?

"I didn't see a ring. Married?"

Harm shook his head no. On reassessment, he should have lied, but he didn't.

She shifted her weight and leaned closer to him. "Engaged?"

He shook his head again. More so, wondering why he had to be so honest than actually answering her question.

"I'm sure she can find you in a booth. This place isn't that big." She glanced down, none too subtly, at his crotch. "At least not yet."

Good God this woman took the word brazen to a new level. He couldn't believe her next move. She actually had the nerve to brush her hand against his crotch in public. "I uh...uh...really don't think she'd..." Just then Harm's eyes caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye.

Mac had been out of the office all afternoon taking depositions. It had been after four o'clock when she finished the last one and had decided to go straight home. When she called the office to see if Harm wanted to come over for dinner, Bud had told her about Harm's day in court. Knowing where she'd find him, she'd thrown on a pair of slacks and a sweater and headed out to McMurphy's.

What she hadn't expected to find was Harm seeking consolation in the... hands of a Renee clone.

"Mac!" Harm shot up from the chair when he spotted her turning back towards the door.

Catching up to her, he reached for her arm.

"I... didn't mean to interrupt." She averted his eyes.

Harm wasn't sure who was more embarrassed by the scene she must have witnessed, him or Mac.

"You may have saved me. Please, come sit down."

Eyes filled with confusion caught his pleading glare.

"Please? I'll explain first chance I get." He kissed her chastely on the lips.

The unexpected kiss left Mac frozen in place, until she felt Harm's hand tugging on hers. She'd been so surprised by the kiss that she hadn't even noticed he was holding her hand. It wasn't that the kiss had been anything special, it was barely a peck, but usually when she was on the receiving end of a thankful peck, it tended to land on her cheek.

He was all set to grab his beer and take Mac to that back booth the blonde was so anxious to snuggle up in when he spotted a group of people put down their pool cues and take seats in the last open booth. Shit. There was no choice but to sit back at the bar.

Taking his seat again, Harm practically cringed when he noticed the blonde sizing Mac up.

"It's not smart to leave a boyfriend as good looking as this sitting alone at a bar." The blonde had apparently decided Mac wasn't much to compete with.

"Oh, he's not..."

"Tonic with a twist?" Harm interrupted.

Mac looked at him curiously. "Yeah, thanks."

"You two been together long?"

"We're..."

"Let's dance." Harm shot out of his chair and grabbed Mac's hand, turning her to the dance floor so quickly, she almost thought he'd pull her arm out of its socket if she didn't follow.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" Mac spat as soon as he twirled her into his arms.

"That woman has been hitting on me since she got here. I can't shake her."

Mac stared at him silently for a long minute before cracking a smile. "You are kidding? Women hit on you all the time. What's the big deal?"

"Maaac. I thought she'd leave me alone when you joined us, but she seems a tad persistent."

"Well, I'll give you that."

"Oh, crap. She's watching us."

Before Mac could respond, Harm had pulled her closer into his arms than would be considered politically correct for a couple of colleagues dancing. She didn't have much chance to react when she felt his warm lips descend on hers.

Harm's lips had barely touched Mac's when it occurred to him he probably should have said something first, asked her permission, something. Turning her slightly, he glanced at the bar with one eye. Damn, that blonde was still watching. He was going to have to turn up the heat. He said a silent prayer, hoping Mac would forgive him or at least let him live.

Awkwardly, he dropped his hand to her six and pressed her gently against him. He'd forgotten how sweet her lips tasted. Suddenly, there was no bar, no blonde, and no excuses. Without any thought, he put his heart and soul into kissing his Marine.

Jack had just set a fresh drink in front of the brassy blonde when his eyes caught a glimpse of the couple on the dance floor. He was all set to tell them to get a room when he realized who it was. He couldn't have pulled his eyes away if Ann-Margret herself walked through the door.

"How long have they been together?" the blonde asked bitterly.

"Hmm?" Jack looked at her.

"Those two." She pointed momentarily at Harm and Mac. "How long?"

Now wasn't that something he'd like to know. "Well, that's hard to say. They've been coming in off and on with some other friends for about... uh... oh, four, maybe five years."

"And they still kiss like that?" Her eyes flew open. It hadn't escaped her curiosity, wondering how the hell to keep that kind of passion in a relationship for five years.

"Apparently." Forcing himself to drag his eyes away and go back to work, Jack looked at the blonde. "Anything else?"

"Unfortunately, no."

Harm's hand had accidentally shifted the edge of Mac's sweater and now he was overwhelmed by still another overpowering sensation: the feel of her soft skin under his fingers.

Something in the back of his mind reminded him they were in public, and worse, he was in uniform. Pulling back with enormous reluctance, his heart sank to his stomach. What had he done? This wasn't just a kiss. This wasn't anything close to a ruse. He'd just unlocked the door that had been keeping all of his feelings for Mac hidden safely away, and there was no way he could lock them back up. Not again.

They stood perfectly still, staring at each other for what must have been mere seconds, but felt like an eternity. Neither knew what to say, this was different from the porch so long ago. There was no goodbye, no other loves waiting, and no reason to hide their feelings. Not that there was any way to deny what just happened. They'd felt it last year, the spark that begged to be ignited, and if one of them didn't move now, that same spark was likely to simultaneously combust.

"I...I'm sorry," Harm mumbled, letting his hands fall away from her hips.

"Oh." Mac couldn't manage a coherent thought, or hide her disappointment.

"I ... I... don't know what to say."

Mac turned her head towards the bar. "The piranha is gone."

"Who?"

"The blonde you were trying to scare away."

"Oh, her. Is that what I was doing?" Harm put his hands back on Mac's hips.

"Wasn't it?"

Harm hesitated. Every time they'd ever had a possibly life altering conversation like this, they spoke in some ambiguous code that always cost him what he really wanted, her. He'd made this same mistake on the ferry in Sydney, on a porch in McLean, and in a cabin on the Guadalcanal. He wasn't going to do it again.

"Harm, I think maybe I should..."

"No."

"No?"

"I mean, yes, I wanted her to leave me alone, but this was much more than that."

Mac's heart skipped a beat. Could this finally be the moment? Were they finally going to cross that blasted invisible line that had separated her from her heart's desire for so long?

Looking quickly around the room, Harm grabbed Mac by the arm. "Let's get out of here. This is no place for the conversation we need to have."

Harm led her to the door, pausing long enough to drop a few bills on the bar and let Mac grab her purse. When they got out of the building, he was practically dragging her across the parking lot.

"Harm, my car is that way." She pointed in the opposite direction.

"We'll come back for it later." With any luck, much later.

"Where are we going?"

"My place." Harm stopped short. "Or would you rather go to your place?"

Before she could answer it dawned on him she couldn't throw him out of his own apartment. "Never mind. My place is closer."

They rode the short distance to Harm's apartment in total silence. Mac took in the death grip he held on the steering wheel. The intensity with which he watched the road was almost frightening. At first she had thought they were going to make some actual progress, but now this odd behavior had her totally perplexed.

Always the perfect officer and gentleman, Harm opened the car door, the front door to his building, and lastly, held the door to his apartment open for her as well. Snatching her purse from her hands, he tossed it carelessly across the small room onto the couch, and kicked the door shut.

Backing her up, he placed his arms outstretched over her shoulders, leaning against the wall, only a breath away from her. "There's no bar, no blonde, and no excuses."

Slowly his lips descended on hers. Gently he toyed with her upper, then lower lip, waiting for her to push him away, tell him to stop, get a hold of himself, come to his senses. A rush of sheer adrenaline soared through his body at the realization that she wasn't doing any of those things.

Words were highly overrated. Letting his hands fall to her sides, he pulled her tightly against him. His thumbs barely grazed the side of her breasts, extracting a low moan that sent shivers down his spine, and a few other places. When Mac's tongue glided timidly across his lips, he fought the urge to swallow her whole. He wanted this woman badly, but if she was going to understand everything he felt for her, he was going to have to slow things down, and fast.

With a heavy sigh, he pulled away from Mac and dropped his forehead against hers. Slowly letting his hands drop, he gently caressed her arms.

"I think we should probably have a little talk."

"Why?" Mac was still trying to control her racing heart.

"Why? This wasn't a kiss between friends, Mac."

A thin smile tugged at her lips. "No, it wasn't." Her smile grew. "But words have never worked before, and I liked where this was going."

Harm's heart leapt to his throat. Holy Christmas, this was really going to happen.

"So did I." A huge grin spread across his face. "You do know this isn't just about sex?"

"Shut up and kiss me." Mac snaked her arms around his neck, tugging him closer to her.

Harm redirected her by kissing her forehead. "I'm serious, Mac."

"So am I." She aimed for his mouth again.

Kissing and talking he managed to mumble, "Mhmmmarrrmmmmee"

Mac actually winced as he pulled away from her again.

"Mac?"

"What?" Her forehead fell heavily against his chest. He was bound and determined to screw this up.

"Marry me?"

Her head shot up. "What did you say?"

"As little as I could. I don't want to mess this up. I love you. I always have. Will you marry me?"

Mac flung her arms around him and planted her lips on his, thrusting her tongue into his mouth with an energy he hadn't expected. Unable to do anything else, Harm wrapped his arms around her and gave as good as he got until the need for air pulled them apart.

"Is that a yes?"

"That's a hell yes, flyboy!"

Bending to scoop his arms under her knees, Harm carried Mac up the steps to his room. Silently he laughed at himself. It never would have occurred to him in a million years that all it would take to have the love of his life, would be another blonde.


End file.
